


Different, But Still The Same

by hinotoriii



Series: Oscar Trevelyan [20]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Prompt Fill, Reunions, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 17:34:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5384360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hinotoriii/pseuds/hinotoriii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian doesn't expect much from when Maeveris informs him of a visitor.</p><p>If he had, perhaps he would have thought about how her and Oscar keep in friendly contact. Perhaps then he might have known about his loves' surprise visit ahead of time. But then where's the fun in a surprise when you know it's going to happen?</p><p>Filled request for number 14: a reunion kiss in the <a href="http://mythalsfavour.tumblr.com/post/130017879203/signs-of-affection-romance-prompt-meme">signs of affection</a> prompt list.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Different, But Still The Same

“Care to do me a small favour, Dorian?”

Looking up from where he currently sits at a desk scribbling away a letter of great importance Dorian glares, watching how Maeveris seems to almost glide within the room. She picks up one of the books set down on the small table nearest the bookstand, glancing over the cover briefly before putting the book down once more as she turns her head to smile in his direction.

“Could it possibly wait my dear? This letter should really be sent off before noon tomorrow, and I’m still struggling to finish it.”

“I’m afraid not,” Maevaris says, although Dorian detects nothing but indifference within her words. He sets his quill down and raises an eyebrow quizzically, knowing all too well that Maevaris was just as stubborn as he was. He was not going to be given any peace until he had agreed or seen to whatever it is she currently wants.

“There is a visitor waiting downstairs. A bloody important one too. I feel it would be better for us both to speak with them together, rather than just myself dealing with them alone.”

Dorian’s eyebrow raises even more. He leans back in his chair, linking his fingers together as he watches Maevaris with a curious interest.

“In what way, exactly, is this person important, may I ask?”

“Have you seen the early hour?” Maevaris asks back, eyes widening a little as she gestures with her hand. “No one visits us at this time Dorian unless it is to discuss business. I believe this may in fact be something you’d like to be present yourself to stand in on. You always do so enjoy the drama of things after all.”

For a long few moments, Dorian doesn’t reply. In his mind he wonders who it is that could be important enough for Maevaris to ask for his attendance – his father’s killer, perhaps, if the leads they were following had proven to finally be fruitful. Or perhaps it could be another reformer wishing to change Tevinter just like themselves – The possibilities are multiple. So, Dorian rises to stand with a heavy sigh.

“If this isn’t as important as you’re leading me to think …”

“Do you truly think I would pull you away if I did not feel this were urgent?” Asks Maevaris, raising a sculptured eyebrow of her own as she opens the door for Dorian. “I left them in the hall before coming to find you, so it’s a good chance Alana is seeing to them. We should not leave them waiting any longer.”

Dorian merely hums in reply, following Maevaris’s lead once they’d left the room. As they make their way to the staircase leading into the main hall light conversation is made as Dorian tries to figure out how much Maevaris already knew of their mysterious person; or if she even knew anything at all. Whilst descending the staircase however, Dorian finds himself growing exasperated about not knowing more about what he’s walking into.

“I swear Maevaris, if this turns out to be another one of our dear Lucerni friends arriving much too early for this afternoons meeting again, then I won’t be amused. I simply refuse to move it any earlier. As you well know, and I have enough on my hands with our current work as it is.”

“If you’re truly that pressed for time, should I perhaps leave and come back when it’s more convenient?”

Dorian stops dead as he comes to the bottom few stairs. His eyes search out around him, spotting the hooded figure whom stands just where Maevaris said she had left them. Dorian recognises that voice, knows it well enough that he could even pick it out in a crowded room, but it could not have come from who he hopes it has. For the person he thinks it belongs to is currently in Kirkwall, not Tevinter.

Or at least Dorian believes they are.

The hooded person takes a step forward, reaching up with their hand to pull the hood away. As their face is revealed Dorian’s thoughts are confirmed – his heartbeat now racing – and standing before him is none other than the Herald of Andraste.

His Oscar. His  _amatus_.

“Maker’s breath.”

His own breath seems to leave him as the words leave his lips. Dorian’s feet move without any thought, stepping past Maevaris and heading straight towards Oscar, not noticing how she leaves to give them both some privacy as he pulls him into a fierce embrace as soon as he is able to. It feels unreal, wrapping his arms around the solid figure of his love after so very long apart, and Dorian would wonder if he were dreaming. Would, if it were not for the familiar scent of the honeycomb scented soaps which always seems to cling so fully onto Oscar.

“I can’t believe it. You’re here. You’re  _actually_ here. In Tevinter, standing before me right now. This is real, yes? I’m not imagining things.”

He feels rather than hears the vibrating of Oscar’s chest as a low laugh is let free, and Maker if that’s not a relief to hear with his own ears. The last time Dorian had seen Oscar, back at the docks in the Free Marches as they were to depart their separate ways he looked as if his entire world had crashed around him. Dorian had wondered if he’d ever see him truly smile so brightly or hear the sound of his laughter again at that time. Now however Oscar is laughing, and although it may be somewhat different from the way he would usually, Dorian knows enough to hear the joy and happiness still behind it. It’s a sound that makes his heart ache in happiness.

“You’d have to have some imagination to think me up,” Oscar replies, wrapping his arm a little tighter around Dorian’s back. It’s both a familiar and strange feeling, only being enveloped within the one arm, but Dorian doesn’t care. There is warmth in his embrace, a warmth and love he has missed – craved – from Oscar ever since he’d left his side.

“Your confidence has grown I see. Is that what living in Kirkwall has done to you? You’ll be as bad as me soon.”

Dorian looks up at Oscar, not removing himself from the hold he’s in. Oscar returns his gaze, eyes soft with affection and lips tilted upwards slightly into the beginning’s of a true and heartfelt smile. Dorian is close enough to see how the time and distance apart has aged the Inquisitor before him; can pick out the creases next to his eyes which hadn’t been present when he left, can see the way the frown lines upon Oscar’s forehead have grown more prominent. He imagines the time Oscar’s had to himself living with his sisters’ aid as he relearns how to live without the anchor or his left arm, knowing how difficult it must have been. And yet, beneath it all, Dorian can still see the man who managed to capture and nurture his tender heart with gentle hands, as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

“You’ve neglected to shave as often as you used to, I see,” Dorian says, reaching up to caress his hand against the harsher stubble of Oscar’s face. Oscar leans into it, rubbing his cheek affectionately like a cat would do. His eyes however remained focus on Dorian.

“And you’ve grown your hair out,” He replies, removing his hand from Dorian’s waist so he could thread his fingertips through Dorian’s hair. His smile grows, a contagious thing which has Dorian smiling himself in return. “I like it. It makes you look more … refined.”

“Oh but I always have been,  _amatus_. You’re just much too blinded by my natural beauty to truly appreciate how sophisticated it also is.”

Dorian finds he’s through with the light jests and the teasing between them then. With little care for anything around him he fills the space between them, lurching forward and pressing his lips against Oscar’s fiercely. It’s been too long, far too long since he’s felt those lips against his own, and by what he can tell Oscar seems to feel the same way. The kiss is urgent, heated and deep; the both of them moving together in tandem, as if they could make up for all the time apart. As Oscar’s tongue brushes his own Dorian thinks himself glad for the sending crystal he had given to him, yet at the same time realises just how much he has missed this. Missed being with Oscar, in the simple, humanistic ways where words fail to have any meaning.

Even as he finally (and rather reluctantly) pulls away Dorian senses how Oscar’s lips chase for his own, acting is under some magical pull. He watches as Oscar slowly opens his eyes, smiles at him again and notices how Oscar reflects the smile back at him with the same amount of love he’s feeling.

“Wait a moment,  _how_  are you here?” Dorian suddenly finds himself asking. “I was speaking with you just last night, and you mentioned nothing then. How can it be that you’ve arrived here without me having any knowledge of you even planning such an idea?”

“Do you forget so easily that I still have unusual friends who still owe me favours?” Oscar asks, sounding slightly amused. His expression changes as soon as he thinks to appear somewhat sheepish. “Maevaris helped me. It’s not exactly easy for me to sneak into Tevinter, after all. A cloaked, one armed Southerner, seen with a child accompanying him to Magister Pavus’s estate? Can’t imagine that’s a sight many Vint’s are used to; especially not after the year long rumours of how  _‘rouge Qunari fighters looking to start a war robbed the Inquisitor of his gift given to him from the Maker’s most beloved’_. Honestly, your people’s speculations as to what happened back then are worse than those I hear in the South.”

“Could we go back to said child, quickly?” Says Dorian. “Did you bring Mae with you? Is she here too?”

“Of course not,” Oscar replies, scrunching his nose slightly. “I wanted to see Tevinter for myself first before bringing our daughter along. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if Maevaris would successfully harbour just me, let alone the two of us. For the time being Mae is with Merrill back in Kirkwall. She’ll be safe there until my return, and if my journey to visit you goes well this time, I can always bring her along with me again. I’ll have a better idea of what this country is like, hopefully.

“I would have said something sooner, but Maevaris mentioned how my sudden appearance could end up being a good surprise instead. She mentioned how hard you’ve been working as of late and … I missed you, Dorian. I wanted to see for myself how you were and how you’re handling things.

“Maker be with me, you daft man. I missed you too.” 

 _So much so,_  Dorian thinks to himself as he pulls Oscar into another tight embrace. He recalls all the times he’s wanted to go back to Kirkwall, to see how Oscar’s recovery was going for himself, remembering the constant aching pain in his heart of missing his beloved. He feels complete for now, and regardless however limited their time is together Dorian intends to make the very most of it.

_One day the distance will be over for good between us, and I can have this happiness I feel right now each and every day. We both can. I intend to hold onto that dream of mine. Always._


End file.
